Heartlessness Destroyed
by Dhampire Hunter
Summary: Is it possible for Severus Snape to have a heart? Duh! Sevitus. Slightly better summery inside Slytherin!Harry Vampire!Harry ABANDONED


**Ok this is a new series of mine that focuses on Harry and Severus's relationship much earlier than my other fic did! This is a separate story but the mechanics of it are the same as my other one. Has anyone heard My Immortal by Evanescence? I know the song is really recent but I want you to pretend it came out in 1991 because I find the song so haunting I almost cry when I listen to it! And I'm a very cynical person and therefore don't cry an awful lot.**

**Ok, this story is canon up to the Sorting Ceremony.**

As we walk into the Great Hall I hear several gasps. I didn't gasp. I might have had Dudley not rugby tackled me into a wall a few days ago. God, it still hurt to breathe. I watch the Head Table closely. This is when I realise I can't see properly and I take off my glasses. I blink. That's strange, I can see perfectly and everyone has a strange light around them. I look at a teacher dressed head to toe in black. His light is a fairly dark grey with blood red pulsating through it. Strange. What's even weirder is I swear I've seen him somewhere. Oh well, I'd better listen now.

_Oh you may not think me pretty, But don't judge on what you see, I'll eat myself if you can find A smarter hat than me. You can keep your bowlers black, Your top hats sleek and tall, For I'm the __Hogwarts__ Sorting Hat And I can cap them all. There's nothing hidden in your head The Sorting Hat can't see, So try me on and I will tell you Where you ought to be. You might belong in __Gryffindor__, Where dwell the brave at heart, Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set __Gryffindor__s apart; You might belong in __Hufflepuff__, Where they are just and loyal, Those patient __Hufflepuff__s are true And unafraid of toil; Or yet in wise old __Ravenclaw__, if you've a ready mind, Where those of wit and learning, Will always find their kind; Or perhaps in __Slytherin__ You'll make your real friends, Those cunning folks use any means To achieve their ends. So put me on! Don't be afraid! And don't get in a flap! You're in safe hands (though I have none) For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

Hmm. Strange. Ow. My spine hurts. Not good. Professor McGonagall starts reading out names. Unsurprisingly Draco Malfoy gets sorted into Slytherin and Hermione Granger gets Gryffindor. Ron groans quite audibly at that. Now it's my turn and I can hardly move. Not from nerves you dunderheads. From pain. Just as my foot touches the first step leading to the stool pain rockets through my body. I scream and collapse seeking respite from the terrible pain.

-- Severus PoV--

As the scream of that idiot boy rang through my ears something clicked. That was my son, don't ask how I know, and therefore he has my dormant vampire gene. La naiba! The magic in the air is bringing forward the gene like it did with me. It put me in the Hospital Wing for nearly a month. But I rejected the gene. I vault the table and crouched by the unconscious boy and lift a lip. La naiba! Blood and lots of it. Sitting down I scoop the boy into my arms and cradle him to my chest. I don't think he will reject the gene. Which means he was probably dying anyway. I run my fingers through his red hair. So much like Lily's. I know people are staring. Who wouldn't? The Greasy Git of the Dungeons sitting on the floor hugging a child. Gathering my thoughts I realise he might start drowning from the amount of blood coming out of his gums. Turning him slightly I open him mouth and almost cringe at the amount of blood that came out. I hear several gasps from the remaining First Years yet to be sorted. I want to scowl at them but I can't. La naiba! Wings, la naiba. I know for a fact this transformation will be quick and painful because he is so young. I pull his robe of and his sweater. Cursing at the tie I pull a long dagger from my sleeve. Bit of a dangerous place to keep a dagger I suppose but I got into the habit while I was a spy. I slash though the fabric of his shirt and tie exposing his bruised back. I cursed again. Pulling the shirt off his arms I cringe. Nearly every part of his skin is purple and black. I am going to kill the Dursleys. His back is arching now. It's time. I wince as bone starts to form from the tops of his shoulder blades. I hear a few students retching as this happens. It isn't a pretty sight. Muscle and skin start growing now and a few more students retch. Black feathers seemingly materialise from thin air. The last line of feathers, the largest ones were blood red. His skin is getting paler and blood is dripping down his back. I start rocking him gently careful not touch his wings which must be painful. I feel my eyes prickling. La naiba, I will _not _cry in front of the students. I blink. A tear escapes. La naiba, there goes my image. More tears cascade down my cheeks as I rock my child. La naiba! My shoulders are shaking. What now? Here I am, the Big Black Dungeon Bat from Hell sitting on the floor holding my dying child in the middle of the Great Hall at the Welcoming Feast crying. Lovely no? A sob escapes my lips and then the flood gate opens. Blestema. I can't hold it in anymore. All of the emotion good and bad that I've suppressing for nearly thirty years is surging through me. For some reason in between my sobs I choke out the words;

"My son, I am sorry."

I hear several gasps from behind me.

-- Harry's Very Pained PoV--

I awake to find myself being gently rocked. The person that is holding me is shaking violently. Crying perhaps. I shan't open my eyes because I like this feeling.

"My son, I am sorry."

**Not very long sorry. I hope you like it.**


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